


Rest Stop

by SQ (proteinscollide)



Series: What happens on the road stays on the road [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Conduit Fic, Crossdressing, Facials, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Roleplay, Snowballing, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-17
Updated: 2013-02-17
Packaged: 2017-11-29 14:10:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/687873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/proteinscollide/pseuds/SQ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>"Or Niall could help, since it’s obviously Fulfil Harry’s Slutty Fantasies Day,” Zayn says wickedly.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Harry and Zayn and an offer Niall's not too tired to refuse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rest Stop

The tour bus is meant to be empty at this time. Niall knows this full well – it’s the main reason he’s sneaking on now, middle of the afternoon during their break from rehearsals. He really wants a nap – he’s determined to have a nap – but since Louis won’t stop finding him all over the venue and throwing things to keep him awake Niall’s getting a bit desperate. 

It doesn’t take a lot of sweet-talking to convince Andy to let him on the bus. Niall’s tired enough that he’s almost in his bunk, costume and all, before he realizes that he’s not, in fact, alone on the bus. He can hear very faintly, but surely, noise from the back of the bus, from the lounge. It’s soft enough that he could almost ignore it, if he just pulls the blankets over his head, but there’s something in it that calls quietly to him. 

He blames what happens next on the fatigue, for the fact he doesn’t just walk away when he realizes what he’s walked in on. He recognizes Zayn’s outfit first – the red and white letterman jacket, matching his own in blue and white – and then it hits him that Zayn’s not fully dressed; the front of his chinos open and pushed down past his hips, so he can get his hand around the base of his cock, pushing it slowly into Harry. 

Harry, who’s on his hands and knees on the low couch curving around the back wall of the bus, his fingers splayed against the leather, bracing against Zayn as he enters him, a low keening noise from his throat. Harry’s, who’s in costume but not any Niall’s seen him in before – a soft white sweater, a short sunny yellow pleated skirt that would surely sit high on his thighs, knee high white socks – but right now, the skirt’s flipped around his waist, and Niall feels his mouth go dry at the sight of Harry's bare bottom, the long line of his legs, spread open with Zayn between them. 

Niall can’t look away, hand going to palm at his cock already standing to attention through his trousers, can’t help as a desperate sound escapes him as he watches Zayn pull back just so he can thrust back into Harry. 

There’s a long moment when Harry and Zayn look up, look right at him, and Niall knows he’s tarried too long to even run away at this point. But then Zayn smiles, a slow curl of his lips upwards, and he snaps his hips to push deeper into Harry, who just throws his head back and sighs as he rocks into the movement. 

“Sorry, I just – I’ll - ” Niall fumbles out the apology and turns a little, as if to leave, but he can’t keep from looking back, biting his lips at the pleasure on Harry’s face, the way Zayn’s fingers grip the sharp jut of Harry’s hip, other hand smoothing over the swell of Harry’s arse. 

“Don’t be,” Zayn says, “Don’t leave on our account.” 

Niall’s gaze flies up to Zayn’s face in surprise. Zayn is watching him intently, that small smile still on his face, a bold, open look that’s holds no joke. Niall takes a step into the room, loosening the grip of his fingers from around the door jamb.

“Yeah, come closer,” Zayn says, in an almost crooning voice, his accent stronger as he drawls. “Come over here. Harry’d like that.” Beneath him, Harry moans and pushes back against Zayn, and Zayn laughs and says teasingly, “You would like that, wouldn’t you? Thought your fantasy was being the cheerleader getting fucked by the jock boyfriend after the game, but maybe - ” He breaks off and rakes his eyes over Niall before he drops the tone and register of his voice and says, “But maybe it’s really getting fucked by your jock boyfriend _and_ his best friend, hmm?”

A desperate, needy sob escapes from Harry, snapping his hips back harder, faster; he lifts a hand and fists it around his cock and wobbles unsteadily for a moment, balanced on one hand. When Zayn realizes he says _no_ sharply. Harry sighs, but he drops his head and braces with both hands flat against the couch again and says, voice rough, “Then fuck me harder, please, and stop teasing me.”

“Or Niall could help, since it’s obviously Fulfil Harry’s Slutty Fantasies Day,” Zayn says wickedly. He looks up at Niall and says, easily as if discussing nothing more serious than the weather. “First with the costumes, and now this – you know, he’s always wanted to be fucked at both ends at the same time.”

Niall swallows hard, but he steps forward, one foot in front of the other, until he’s close enough to reach out and run a hand through Harry’s hair, light scratches against his scalp that has Harry almost purring, the frantic edge from before smoothed away for a moment as he curls into the caress. It’s enough to convince Niall to take the last step, until Harry’s mouth is level with his crotch. Harry opens his eyes, grins up at Niall, and then he purses his lips and huffs, a warm breath that makes Niall groan and tighten his fingers in Harry’s curls, a sharp tug that makes Harry gasp as his head jerks back and pushes him back onto Zayn’s cock. 

“God, Niall,” Zayn says tightly. “What are you waiting for?”

Niall keeps one hand fisted in Harry’s hair, keeps his grip tight even as Harry starts rocking back against Zayn, and fumbles with his fly, pushing his briefs down to get out his cock with unseemly haste. He rubs the head, already leaking a little, across Harry’s lips, breath hitching at the glisten and shine it leaves across the pink bud of Harry’s mouth. Harry’s tongue curls out and he licks around the head, at the slit, almost shyly. Niall groans and he can’t keep himself from pushing forward, pressing past the seal of Harry’s lips to get him to open up to him. Harry sucks him down, wet and enthusiastic, even as he relies on Niall to set the pace, both hands in his hair. 

It echoes loud and rhythmic in the small space, the sound of Harry’s mouth working around Niall’s cock, and the slap of Zayn’s ball against Harry’s arse with each thrust. Niall can’t help but add guttural moans as he gets closer, feeling the tightness low in his gut. He grips tighter and pushes a little further to see how much Harry can take.

“Yeah, like that, just like - ,” Zayn breathes out. Niall looks up from Harry’s mouth stretched obscenely around him, to as good a sight with Zayn flushed, hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, grinning even as his hands scrabble at Harry’s skin, seeking purchase, as his thrusts get erratic, his breaths shorter. They’re both close, each working Harry harder, and he’s so good, he’s keeping up with them, and Niall thinks he’s cresting when Zayn says, voice cracking, “You should – he likes it when you come on his face.”

Niall feels the force of his orgasm coming on, the roar and rush in his ears even as he registers Zayn’s voice, those words, but he has just enough presence of mind to push roughly at Harry’s shoulder as he comes, pulling out just far enough to stripe Harry’s cheeks and his still open mouth. Niall breathes out loudly as he comes down, hand going to his cock even as he shudders through the last of it, and then Harry’s threading his fingers with his, guiding them both with slow strokes along the shaft. Niall almost chokes at the sight of Harry greedily milking the last few drops into his mouth. 

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Zayn moans as he falls forward with one last thrust, a cry, as he comes slumped across Harry’s back. Niall flops onto the couch next to Harry’s head and it gives the perfect view when Zayn reaches blindly for Harry, pulling him back for a kiss; he can see a flash of white as their tongues slide against each other, Zayn getting a taste of him by proxy. He’s all spent, but Niall keeps his hand on his cock as he watches Harry and Zayn making out, thumb rubbing idly across the head as his heartbeat slows to normal.

“My turn now,” Harry says, voice husky, eyes bright, rosy blush high on his cheeks. “I’ve earned it, haven’t I?”

Zayn chuckles as he pulls out. He paws at Harry until he gets off his hands and knees, sprawling face up between the two of them. Zayn slips a hand under the hem of the sweater, and Harry raises his arms obligingly so Zayn can pull it off. He looks ridiculous and debauched sitting there in just the tiny yellow-gold skirt and socks, bare chest flat and naked, and Niall still wants to fuck him every way possible. 

“What do you want then?” Zayn asks Harry, but he’s already reaching under Harry’s skirt and from the way Harry bites his lips a second later Niall can guess Zayn’s got the situation in hand. 

“Anything,” Harry whines, wriggling in his seat, “Just, the both of you, fuck, anything something but _now_.” He turns his head to look pleadingly at Niall, hand falling on Niall’s knee. 

“You heard him,” Zayn says, laughing. “It’s a persuasive argument, right?”

Niall eases his hand under the edge of the skirt, sliding along the skin of Harry’s thighs to feel him shiver under the touch, higher until his hand meets Zayn’s, and they can jerk him off together. There’s a twitch in Harry’s neck, under his jaw, and Niall latches on with his mouth to quell it with his tongue, with nips of his teeth. Out of the corner of his eye he’s aware of Zayn licking at one of Harry’s nipples, making Harry writhes even more under them, gasping and swearing, and as Harry’s hips buck up he comes, hot and sticky between their fingers. Niall keeps sucking at that delicious patch of skin in the nape of Harry’s neck until the trembling stops. 

“Fuck,” Niall says with feeling a little later. “You guys are – I was feeling a bit out of it so I came here for a nap. For a _rest_.” He starts laughing, a little hysterical at the edges. 

“Do you feel better though?” Harry says. He’s wriggling out of the skirt, nose wrinkling as he realizes there’s a noticeable stain right in the middle. “Well, that’s another piece of clothing we’re gonna have to lie to wardrobe about,” he says to Zayn. 

“Yeah,” Niall says slowly. The weariness has dissipated, replaced by a low, sated hum deep in his bones, and when he looks over at Harry and Zayn he recognizes the drowsy satisfied look on their faces. 

“Then mission accomplished,” Zayn says. He raises an eyebrow at Niall, a sure smile on his face. “And keep that in mind next time you think you need a break.”


End file.
